The Cell Phone of Salvation
by jujitsuelf
Summary: Prompt fill for - 'I woke up wrapped in bubble wrap, I can only assume it was for my own safety...'


**The Cell Phone of Salvation**

Disclaimer – All publicly recognizable characters, settings etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended

Prompt fill for peaceful_sands - 'I woke up wrapped in bubble wrap, I can only assume it was for my own safety'

Thanks to Cougar's Catnip for the beta

Jensen woke up suddenly and completely, in that weird way you do sometimes, going from deeply asleep to wide awake in seconds. He moved slightly and was confused to hear an odd crackling noise, accompanied by a few small popping sounds.

He tried to stretch out his arms but found them pinned to his sides. He opened his eyes and looked around. He was lying on his own bed, on top of the covers. So far, so normal. There was a bucket close to the bed. Again, normal procedure for the morning after a night out. His memory was starting to return as his brain got back up to its usual speed. He could remember having more drinks than was strictly advisable with Pooch the previous evening. After that, it was still a bit of a blur.

Jensen tried to move his arms once more and growled in frustration as they were kept pinned firmly to his sides again. Blinking rapidly to try to focus his bleary eyes, he looked down.

His eyebrows shot up as he realized exactly what had happened to him and he muttered, "Well, that's a first." Somehow he'd managed to get himself wrapped up in bubble wrap from his neck to his knees. And it was firmly duct taped on. Pooch.

Jensen swore out loud, then wished he hadn't as his head throbbed painfully. "Shit," he muttered more quietly, trying to move his legs. He could wave his feet around with no problem but his knees were pressed together by the wrap, which was a surprisingly effective restraint. He banged his head on the pillow in frustration and cursed again as little white-hot stars of pain blossomed behind his eyelids.

"Pooch, you are a dead man," he groaned, trying and failing to wiggle his arms free.

He lay still for a few moments, listening and wondering whether he was alone in the apartment or whether one of the others had decided to crash on his sofa for the night. Only silence met his ears and he groaned again, the bastards had left him like this! This definitely called for retribution and Pooch was on the top of the list to suffer his wrath.

Straining every muscle in his stomach, Jensen tried to sit up. Infinitely slowly, he felt the layers of wrap start to bend and fold, and he managed to get himself into a somewhat precarious sitting position. Granted he was only upright because he was tensing his abs so hard he thought he might tear something in a minute, but still, he was upright and he'd scored one against the wrap.

Taking a quick breather, he looked around the room, and grinned when he saw his cell phone lying on his nightstand. Yes! He was saved from bubble wrap hell. Without thinking, he made to reach out and grab the phone, only to be bought up short by the unyielding wrap.

"Ah," he muttered, "problem." He pursed his lips, well, the army hadn't spent God knew how much money on his training to have him be defeated by plastic packing wrap.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and managed to plant them firmly on the floor. Then, using an odd kind of bunny-hop technique which involved pushing with his feet and bouncing along on his ass, he managed to move up the bed, closer to the nightstand and the cell phone of salvation.

By the time he reached the bedside table, his face was shining with sweat and it was dripping down his neck into his shirt collar. Damn, next time they went on a mission somewhere cold, he wasn't bothering with thermal underwear, he was just taking a roll of bubble wrap with him. But, the phone was now close to hand, or would be if he could get a hand free to pick it up.

Biting his lip, he decided there was only one course of action. Fighting against the wrap again, he bent forward as much as he could and prodded the phone's touchscreen with his nose. The reflexive power of the plastic was surprising and kept threatening to send him backwards onto the bed, but he pushed his shoulders forward and managed to wake the phone up from its standby mode.

Leaning so far forward was making his glasses start to slide down his sweaty nose, and he blessed and cursed the person who'd allowed him to sleep in them. At least he was wearing them so he could see the phone's menu, but he doubted they'd stay on his face much longer, so he had to move fast.

He aimed his nose hopefully at the 'contacts' icon on the screen, but missed and managed to turn on the phone's MP3 player instead. Swearing as his sore head was assaulted by AC/DC at point blank range, he swiped his nose across the small screen again and sighed in relief as the music stopped. Breathing sharply, he sat up a little and looked at the phone thoughtfully. Okay, he'd made things a little more difficult for himself by getting into the 'music' menu, but he could get back out to the actual 'phone people' part of the gadget. Hopefully.

Puffing more air into his eyes and praying his glasses didn't fall off, he bent back down to the phone, amidst much crackling and popping. Honestly, after this he was never playing with bubble wrap again. Cougar could pop the tiny bubbles all he wanted, but he was on his own. All Jensen's love for the stupid stuff was quickly evaporating as it fought him every inch of the way down to the phone.

Poking at the touchscreen again, he managed to get out of the MP3 player and back to the main menu. Swearing at the cell phone designers who had obviously not taken into consideration using one's nose to operate the device during their design process, he tried and failed to open either the 'contacts' menu or the 'recent calls' list. At this point he didn't really care who he managed to call for help, as he was starting to realize that nature was calling, and even if he made it to the bathroom, he had no way of getting his pants down.

Shaking his head to make himself focus on making the damn phone work and not on his complaining bladder, he tried again. Carefully keeping both eyes open, he aimed his nose at the 'recent calls' log. After one little prod it opened and he couldn't contain his "Hell, yes! I am the freakin'_ man_!" He looked at the list of people he'd phoned recently and wondered who would be the most likely to actually come and help him when he explained that he was being held hostage by bubble wrap.

He smiled as he saw 'Cougar' on the list. Oh yeah, if anyone would come and help a poor wrapped-up hacker, it was everyone's favorite sub-verbal sniper. He poked at the phone with his nose again and heard it begin to dial. Frantically pressing the 'loudspeaker' icon, he sat back and waited for Cougar to answer.

After a few moments, there was a click as Cougar's phone was answered and the sniper's sleepy voice said, "Si?"

"Cougs!" Jensen cried, "Help me, man. I'm in my apartment and I think Pooch wrapped me in bubble wrap and I need to piss and I can't get my arms free and if you don't hurry I'm gonna need to buy a new mattress."

There was silence for a second before Cougar said, "Jensen? Are you stoned?"

Jensen rolled his eyes and retorted, "No, I am not stoned! I'm being held prisoner by plastic bubble wrap and I need help."

"And you want me to come and help you at..." there was a rustling sound as Cougar obviously turned over to look at the clock, "five-thirty in the morning. Sunday morning. Seriously?"

"Cougs!" Jensen all but wailed, "Please! I'll do anything, just get over here and help me."

Again, there was a silence as Cougar pondered this offer. "Okay, I'll be there in a few. And you will owe me big-time."

"Yes!" Jensen moaned, closing his eyes and fighting to keep control of his bladder, "Whatever you want, just rescue me from this stupid wrap."

"'kay," Cougar muttered, "I'll be there in a bit."

"Thanks," Jensen said weakly as Cougar hung up.

Now that he'd successfully called for help, there was nothing more to do but wait. Jensen bit his lip and watched the minutes tick by on his clock. Jiggling his leg up and down made the ache in his bladder a bit less noticeable, but it was still a fine-drawn agony that he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy.

Eventually, it felt like at least a decade later, there was a scraping noise at his front door, and Cougar strode in, having obviously had the sense to grab Jensen's spare key on the way out of his own apartment. The sniper was suffering from some quite awesome bed hair, apparently he hadn't bothered to brush it before leaving. Jensen felt gratified, he was more important than Cougar's hair, at least, today he was more important than Cougar's hair. Tomorrow, who knew?

"What the hell?" Cougar muttered when he saw Jensen.

"I don't know," Jensen shook his head sadly, "last thing I remember is being out with Pooch and drinking tequila. Then the next thing I knew, I woke up here, like this."

Cougar shook his head and said, "I'll get a knife or something, hang on." He vanished from the bedroom and Jensen heard him opening drawers in the kitchen. He returned a minute later with the biggest kitchen knife Jensen owned and proceeded to attack the bubble wrap.

Before long, Jensen was free and without stopping to thank Cougar, he bolted for the bathroom. The sniper grinned as he heard Jensen moan in relief. When he finally emerged, Jensen looked far happier and much less pained.

"You are a lifesaver," he said, and pulled Cougar into a hug. "I'll buy you the best steak dinner you'll ever eat."

Cougar shrugged, "No problema. And that'd be cool, thanks."

"You want coffee?" Jensen asked, heading to the kitchen.

Cougar nodded vigorously, rubbing his eyes. He sipped at the strong brew Jensen handed him and made an appreciative 'mmm' noise.

"How do you feel about helping me get revenge on the Pooch-meister?" Jensen asked, sliding a sideways glance at Cougar.

"I'm in," Cougar grunted into his coffee.

Jensen grinned, there was something very comforting about knowing that there was actually someone in the world who would come when he yelled for help, save him from bubble wrap and then help him plot revenge afterward.

He sipped at his coffee and chuckled, Pooch was so going to suffer for this.

***fin***


End file.
